Lost In Smallville
by RedTailedHawkens
Summary: New Yorker Chloe Sullivan finds herself trapped in the fictional world of her favorite Superhero, Superman, during his teenage years and must help him realize his destiny without ruining the story or accidentally falling in love with The Man Of Steel.
1. Author's Note and Prologue

Author's Note: The Following Story was inspired by the Movie _Lost In Austen_, which I have just watched and have fallen deeply in love with. I highly recommend it. The movie is centered on a girl, Amanda, who loves the book _Pride and Prejudice_ and finds her life lacking in comparison. She wood prefer to cuddle up by a fire and read the book she has memorized for the hundredth time than to spend a night with her boyfriend. Everything changes when she finds Elizabeth Bennet in her bathroom. Elizabeth discovered a portal between the two worlds, and Amanda finds herself trapped in her favorite book until she can find a way to open the portal from the other side. I highly recommend the movie, but it inspired this story.

Understanding this concept may be a bit difficult, but bare with me. Chloe Sullivan is an ordinary, all right, a slightly eccentric girl. When she is eight, her mother walks away from their family and Chloe blames herself for her mother's unexplained departure. Due to a fear of getting close to people who will also, undoubtedly abandon her; she throws herself into books, allowing herself to be swept up by fiction. She finds herself fascinated with the Superman story, and grows up on comics, George Reeves' _The Adventures of Superman_, Christopher Reeves' _Superman _Movies, and _Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman_, staring Dean Cain as The Man Of Steel. She falls in love with the Superman, and the beautiful romance between him and the spunky Lois Lane. One day, she finds a portal and is transported to the world of the Man Of Steel, but things are strange. She finds she has stumbled on him in his youth, before Lois, and he is reluctant to accept his destiny. She feels it is her duty to propel him towards the path she knows he is destined for, as well as to keep him away from a girl she knows not to be his soulmate. In doing so, she may discover the story she thinks she knows is not as set in stone as she thinks.

This story is to be told in first person through the perspective of Chloe. The part of this story that is in 'the real world' takes place in 2011, as this is when I am writing it. I have not decided when the _Smallville_ bit is supposed to take place yet.

Lost In Smallville

Prologue

I sat down on the bed and turned on my _Lois and Clark_ DVD. I was going to watch the pilot. Yes, I had seen the pilot at least a hundred times now, but, what did that matter.

Much like the great Nellie Bly or the even greater (though fictional) Lois Lane, I aspire to be a journalist. I want to someday work at _The New York Times_, the real world equivalent of the _Daily Planet_. However, unlike the _Daily Planet_, which for seventy years or so has remained the most important source of news in the world, _The New York Times_ is, unfortunately, losing readership. This is a result of a combination of things. First, there is the weakened integrity of some journalists and the effect their weakened integrity has had on the public's opinion of all journalists, even the honest ones. Second, there is the television, which has allowed people to get news in a quicker, easier way. Third, there is the economy, which, let's face it, is what we blame for anything that has gone wrong. Finally, there is the general apathy of America. Without a real life Superman to inspire us, we are all just a bunch of selfish, lazy people. That being said, I feel compelled to explain what effect this dying of newspapers has had on my life. I, an aspiring journalist aged fourteen, am living in New York, going to a school where I was today told at a meeting with my guidance counselor to pick a more practical career path.

"Perhaps an accountant." She suggested, which just proves she barely glanced at my grades, as I have no talent for math, let alone no interest for it.

After that, the most disgusting thing happened to me. My writing partner at the school paper, who no doubt only joined so he could have an excuse to watch the cheerleaders practice without being viewed as a total pervert, tried to come onto me. I caught him looking at my breasts, which has happened before, and I usually try to ignore it and turn away, but this time, I decided to call him on it. His response was that he was merely appreciating the view, but if it bothered me so much, perhaps he could even the score by showing me his. When I rolled my eyes, he insisted that I had been flirting with him, and that he would be more than willing to go off into a corner with me. Charming, right? I, of course, left disgusted.

So, after finishing homework and writing an article for our school paper, an article I am sure our editor will not publish as it is too 'controversial' for a school paper, her words, not mine, I collapse on the couch and escape into the only world I feel maintains hope and integrity.

Oh, Lois, how I envy you, to have a smart, kind, gentlemanly writing partner who absolutely adores you, as opposed to what I have, a hormone crazed, indelicate, and quite stupid boy. But I suppose that is how all boys are in the real world, isn't it? I should learn to accept it.

* * *

As I approach the scene where Lois and Clark get in the elevator and she says that thing about being on top, I hear a noise coming from my kitchen. My father is at work, and nobody else lives here. It is not the most settling thing in the world. So, I get up and go to the kitchen, and I find a strange sputtering coming from the refrigerator. When I open the door, I do not see the sparse collection of plumbs, and the macaroni and cheese that we usually keep around, but a painting of a street. However, when I reach out to touch the painting, I see it is not a painting at all, nor is it a photograph. It is, in fact, a road. There is a road in my refrigerator. A road inside my refrigerator! . Now, a smarter girl would shut the door and go to sleep, hoping these delusions would disappear. I fancy myself rather smart. However, not unlike Lois, I have quite nose for trouble. More so, I have a nose for mystery. I have always dreamed of mystery coming into my life, and a very clear mystery appeared in my kitchen. I am not stupid enough to pass up an opportunity, or perhaps I am too stupid to listen to the tiny voice of reason in my head. Either way, I find myself stepping onto the road in my refrigerator. The door closes behind me, and then disappears. Did not see that bit coming. This cannot be a one-way trip! Wherever I am, and whatever adventure awaits me, I know I have to find my way home eventually, because my father needs me, and I cannot abandon him like my mother did. I can only hope that this refrigerator world is like Narnia in that no real time will pass.

* * *

As I walk down this road, I take in the scenery. It really is a beautiful place, wherever I am. I have never been fond of the country, but there is a little appeal to this place. The air is clean, and it is peaceful.

The next thing I know, I am chocking on dust, and then I am on the ground. A truck just nearly hit me, not that I can completely blame the driver, as I was not really paying all that much attention to where I was going. I head a truck door slam and then a very handsome blue-eyed boy comes down to my level and helps me up.

"Are you all right?" he asks. I nod. He sticks out his hand, "Hi, I'm Clark. Clark Kent." And then, for a reason completely unrelated to the truck, I find myself unconscious.


	2. Chapter One

Author's Note: First, I would like to apologize. _Lost In Austen_ was not a movie, it was a miniseries. That was my mistake. I saw it on DVD.

Second, I would like to thank my first reviewer for this story. I hope they see this, because they said they are not likely to read this story, and given their reasoning, I completely understand, but as it was anonymous, I cannot send them a direct thank you to ensure they get it. If somehow this finds its way back to you, anonymous first reviewer, I thank you for stating your honest opinion and want you to know I take no offense to what you said. In fact, I admire you for it. I, personally, have felt the same as you do about many fictional couples, and I would not attempt this little experiment were it not with Chloe, who was an actual love interest of Clark's in many ways. I have often wished for alternate realities could exist, so there could be a Clark for Lana, one for Lois, one for Alicia, and one for Chloe, because I loved all these couples. Also, I do not yet no how the story will end, as I make it up as I go, so while the premise is Chlark, it may not end that way. The characters personalities may take us in another direction. Still, I applaud you for expressing your opinion, and respect your choice, though I wish you could read this note. If somehow you do read it, I would appreciate if you inform me that you have. In any case, here is the next chapter, where the real story begins.

Chapter One

I woke up on a couch, that I did not recognize, in a living room I did not recognize, being stared at by a family I did not recognize. One of them handed me a glass of water, and I took it. I sat up and tried to collect my thoughts as I took slow sips. Memories came flashing back to me. Magic refrigerator, truck, Clark Kent. I looked up at the boy who I now recalled claiming that name. As I examined him, I realized he could not be any older than, well, my age. Clark Kent was Superman, this I knew. But Superman was in his late twenties. He had been in his late twenties, early thirties for the past seventy-one years. He had never been fifteen, or fourteen. I mean, I supposed he had, but only for a scene or a flashback.

He was attractive, though, not that I would expect anything less. He was tall, very tall, and his hair was a deep, rich black. It looked soft too. It was the sort of hair you wished you could just run your fingers through over and over again.

The clothes were a little strange, plaid. I never thought of Superman in plaid. It was either spandex or a boring suit. Okay, so maybe I thought of him without those things a little too, but what can I say, I am a girl with hormones living in the twenty-first century. It is not the most uncommon thing. Still, plaid? But, if he was fourteen, he would still be living in Kansas, farm country, Dorothy, and twisters. Plaid could make sense there. He would certainly draw more attention in a boring suit than in plaid if he was in Kansas. Now, what was the name of his hometown again…

"How are you feeling?" Clark asked me. I sensed I little nervousness in his voice, and I realized it probably had something to do with the fact that the last time he asked me how I was I had passed out.

Let's see, how was I feeling? I had walked through a refrigerator into a fictional world. As far as I knew I had no way to get home, and a younger Superman was tending to my wellbeing. So how was I? Freaked out, excited, shocked, probably insane, possibly asleep in bed. Who knew? I mean, how was I supposed to be.

"Look, um, thank you, really, but I should get going. My dad will be worried." I said as quickly as I could as I rushed toward the door. It probably was not the smartest move, considering I had no other place to stay while I was here, and no clue how long I would be forced to stay, but I was freaking out, and I think I had the right to be.

Wouldn't you be if you were trapped in your favorite story? But then, it was my favorite story, my escape. So maybe I should not be as upset as I am. "Sullivan, you can even make a tragedy out of a fairytale." I said to myself.

"I'm sorry?" I heard a voice and looked up. A tragically beautiful brunette stood before me, looking at me. Then I realized I had said my thought out loud. She must have thought I was talking to her; not an odd assumption since I was basically two feet away from being on top of her.

"Oh, sorry, I was, um, talking to myself." The girl nodded. As I looked a little further, I noticed she was standing in front of another house. She must be Superman's er, Clark's neighbor. Remembering that I still had no place to stay, I decided to try my luck with her. "I'm Chloe. I'm new in town."

"Where are you from?" she asked politely. One easy answer for that.

"Metropolis." I say instantly.

"You're lucky. I would love to have grown up there." I smile. "What brings you to Smallville?"

Smallville. That was it. Wow, Smallville, Metropolis, great story, but the writers did not exactly put much thought into the names of the towns, did they?

"Um, I, my dad, he…" think, Sullivan, think, "he thought that a small-town would be a more conducive learning environment for me." not the best excuse, but it could have been worse.

"Well, I don't know enough about Metropolis's school's to make a comparison, but the crows are happy to welcome you."

I stared at her. Was that some sort of mean girl threat? The crows eating me. I should have known. Pretty girls are always bitches. "The Crows?"

"Smallville High's mascot." She said, confused by my confusion. Oh. I guess I should have known that, if I really had been a transfer student. That is when I realized, technically, I did not exist here, which is really weird when you think about it. I am the one that does not exist. Anyway, I am nothing if not a skilled hacker. I am sure I can create a plausible identity for myself here.

"Right, sorry, still adjusting. In fact, my dad tried to arrange a place for me to stay, you know, with some old college friends of his, before he can get out of his contract and settle here, but it turns out, they don't have the room for me. In fact, they're moving, so I don't actually have a place to stay until my dad comes." I know, it is a little pushy, but what else could I do.

"Well, that stinks. I'm sorry." She said. I waited for that famous down home hospitality to kick in, but apparently, small towns are not as friendly as people think.

"Hey, crazy idea, but, um, do you maybe have a spare room." I know, really, really, really pushy, but I was homeless. What would you do?

"Um" she started. Her face was pensive, "Well, I would have to ask my aunt first, but, I guess, if you really need a place…" she did not finish.

* * *

I waited for her to go in and talk to her aunt. The conversation took about three hours, but when those three hours were finally up, I had a place to stay. The guest room of the neighbor's of the Kents.

"Thanks for this. I know it is a little unorthodox, seeing how we barely know one another, but I was seriously desperate. And I promise I will find a way to repay you."

She smiled, "You know what, it's okay. It can actually get kind of lonely around here." I could tell that she found it a little more odd than she wanted to let on, but she was being really nice. I decided I liked her, "Oh, hey, um, I'm sorry, but, uh, what's your name. You never told me."

"Lana Lang."

Lana. Lana Lang. how did I know… Lana Lang! Clark Kent's high school sweetheart Lana Lang! Oh my god! I did not even know how to respond to that. Actually, I did. As ashamed as I am to admit it, my response was, "Aren't you supposed to be a redhead?"


	3. Chapter Two

Author's Note: Thank you all so much for your reviews. You make me so happy when I see them.

For the person who wrote the second review for this story, as you have no return address for me to respond to your review, I must post my response here. The rest of you may skip this if you like. Thank you for what you said. I thoroughly enjoyed your comments and insight into Smallville, Superman, and the nature of fan-fictions. I have not said Chloe will replace Lois, I am sort of seeing how things go, but just because Chloe is here does not mean Lois does not exist. I miss their relationship, but there are actually some good stories for them lately. Try some of the author's I have saved as favorite's, a few of them are doing Chlark like there is no tomorrow. The Lana thing seemed like the only logical thing to do. She obviously cannot stay with Clark, and she needs a place. Also, I like the Chloe/Lana sister relationship in the show. It think people have a problem with it because usually if they like one girl with Clark, they make the other girl a villain, and then it makes no sense for them to be friends, but I love them both, and I loved their friendship. I miss it now. Chloe and Lois are great, but so were Lana and Chloe. Thank you again, and I hope to hear from you again.

For the rest of you, just so you know, if there is no return address on your review, this is how I will respond to it. If you take issue with the publicness of this method, please let me know.

I feel the need to warn that as Chloe is narrating as a fan of the show, certain aspects may be poked fun at, like last chapter with Lana's hair color. Please understand this is all in good fun, and I feel it fits Chloe's personality to notice these little things. I love Smallville and I have nothing but respect for the writers and how they have done things.

Please enjoy.

Chapter Two

I have been in this crazy _Superman: The Early Years_ world for a couple of days now. Lana is very nice, as is her aunt. She spends much of her time reading, or going out with her friends, but in the little time I have spent with her, I have found her quite pleasant. It is very difficult to adjust to the fact that I am stuck in a fake world, but I have always been fascinated by the abnormal. When I was eight, I wrote my first article for a school paper. It was about The Loch Ness Monster, and my theories relating to its existence. Odd as it seems, it is not that hard for me to process that I am trapped in a fictional world. I am however, fascinated by how it might have happened and have been trying to find answers at every turn. Says a lot about me, doesn't it? Whenever I open a refrigerator here, I half expect to see my kitchen on the other side.

Everything will change tomorrow though, and by tomorrow, I mean today, as it is about three o'clock in the morning. Today I start Smallville high. Before I got involved in trying to figure out how I got here, or how I can get home, I had to establish an identity for myself. I hacked into some state records and falsified a birth certificate, medical history, school accomplishments, social security number, and anything else I thought I might need. It was surprisingly easy; I even frighten myself sometimes. I could rationalize things by saying that I was not technically lying, as everything I said about myself was true, my name, my birth date, the D I got in Spanish when I was eleven. I could have fixed that, but I thought it was better to do it this way. The only things I changed were some names, like New York had to become Metropolis, because there is no New York here, and my old teachers names needed to be exchanged for the names of teachers that existed here. Also, I decided to change my social security number, in case this is some really elaborate prank or something. I would not want to give whoever was behind all this the key to stealing my identity, so I made up a new one. I made sure nobody else has it, and now I am good to go. And in about four hours, I will be starting Smallville high. I should really get some sleep, but sleep does not seem to want to come right now.

* * *

I did finally get to sleep around five. Two hours. That's okay. I have functioned on less. As long as I have access to coffee, I am good to go. Lana shows me around a little, then goes over to talk to her friends. I check in at the front desk, and go about signing up for the school paper. It is called The Torch, do not ask me why. I have no clue. I am excited though, for two reasons. One, school paper, always reason for excitement, especially if I get more freedom than I did at my school in New York. Two, I have no doubt that a certain future superhero will be on his school paper. After all, he did not end up working at the _Daily Planet_ by sitting home stargazing.

As I was heading toward the paper, who should I bump into but Clark Kent himself.

"Hey." He says, a concerned look on his face.

"Hey." I sputter. He really is attractive, and knowing what I know about him, is it any wonder I get swept up. Even the independent modern woman Lois Lane got week in the knees over him.

"How are you?"

I have to think for a minute for it to register. He is talking about the truck accident. _Okay, Sullivan, be cool_, I tell myself. _Do not screw this up_.

"How do girls you hit usually answer that question?" I asked, going for humor. I can tell by his shocked look that I was not successful in my attempt. "Relax, I'm kidding. Wow, if you freak out this easily, it's amazing you made it to fourteen." I say, trying to act cool, hoping I am not coming off as spazzy as I feel.

"Sorry, it's just, I've never screwed up quite like that before. I could have really hurt you."

God, there is so much compassion in his eyes, "You didn't and, for the record, if I had been paying attention to where I was going, none of that would have happened." He smiled gratefully. "You get down on yourself a lot, don't you?" I ask, partly out of concern, and partly out of curiosity.

"I was raised to be responsible for my actions. And my dad is the most moral guy you have ever met…let's just say, I have a lot to live up to."

"Well, I'm sure you will."

He smiled awkwardly, "You don't even know me."

"Not yet, but I'm sure I will. I just joined the school paper."

I noticed Clark tense a little, "So, you plan to interview irresponsible truck drivers for your first article?" he asked. He was making light, but I could tell he was a little jumpy.

"No, unless you think we should. You've been here longer, so you can take the reigns for a while." he looked at me confused, "Somebody told me you were on staff."

Clark burst out laughing, "I'm sorry, what?"

"You don't work on the school paper?"

"I'd rather be shot in the head than work on the school paper. Journalism is not my thing, and neither is being in the spotlight. Believe me, I am much happier living without a byline."

My mouth dropped open. I knew I was gaping at him, but I could not help it. Clark Kent had no interest in journalism. There was something seriously wrong here. I had to correct this as soon as possible. A legend depended on it.


	4. Chapter Three

Author's Note: Part of the following chapter is told in the third person. That is because it is a scene that happens when Chloe is not present, thus, she could neither narrate nor be informed of it. Scenes of this nature will likely surface again, but I will try to avoid it as much as possible unless specifically asked to do otherwise.

Chapter Three

After school, I was hanging out in _The Torch_ office. There had to be some reason Clark was not interested in reporting. It was just too bizarre. Getting home would have to wait until this was fixed.

I searched the school directory and got Clark's home number.

"Hello?" a kind female voice said on the other end. That must be Mrs. Kent, I thought.

"Hello, is Clark there?" I asked. There was a pause.

""Hold on a minute, please," said Mrs. Kent. Then, I heard her call out, "Clark, can you come here."

I assume he came, then there was some muttering, and then, his voice, "Hello?" he said. He seemed very unsure. Judging from the ruckus it created, I am guessing he does not get phone calls often.

"Hey, it's Chloe." I said.

"Chloe?" he sounded confused. That was when I realized I had never actually told him my name.

"Um, the girl you hit with your truck."

"Oh. Hey." He seemed a little more relaxed now that he had identified me, "Um, what's up?"

"Well, nothing really. It's just I'm new, and I don't really have any friends. I was thinking we could hang out sometime. Like I could come over and we could work on homework together or something."

"You want to come over and do homework?"

"Yeah, sometime. I mean, you know, if it's okay." I think he only partially heard me, because I heard some noise in the background.

"Um, my mom wants to know if you plan on staying for dinner?" he asked, uncomfortably.

"No, I didn't mean … um, sure." I said. I had only meant it as a general statement, not necessarily a right now thing, but why wait.

"Okay. When should we expect you?"

I looked at my watch, "I can be there in fifteen minutes. I'm at the school, so I'll have to stop at home first."

"Okay, well, you just take a right and-"

"I know where it is. I've been there before, remember?" Actually, I had been in such a rush to get out of there at the time, I had not really taken much note of where it was, but considering I was living with Lana now, I figured I could find my way across the street.

I heard Clark chuckle. "Right." He said. "Well, see you then."

"See you." I said. I felt giddy. I was going over to The Clark Kent's house for dinner.

* * *

Mr. and Mrs. Kent were staring at Clark suspiciously. He fidgeted a little uncomfortably, "I have friends." He said defensively.

Martha Kent smiled, "Oh, we know that sweetie. It's just that a _girl_ has never called for you before."

"So. Look, it's that girl I hit the other day. She's new in town."

Martha nodded, "So, you two are … friends now?" she asked, curiously.

Clark shrugged, "I don't know. I barely know her. Maybe we'll be friends."

"Well, do you think she's cute?"

"Mom!" he said in that embarrassed way teenage boys do when mothers are prying into their personal lives.

"Sorry." she said, "I'm just curious. Doesn't a mother have a right to be curious?"

Clark shrugged again and slinked upstairs.

Jonathan looked at Martha. "What?"

"He's a teenage boy, Martha."

"I know what he is, Jonathan."

"I certainly never spent time talking to my mother about you."

"Well, I should hope not." Martha chuckled. Jonathan pulled her in and kissed her.

* * *

I knocked lightly on Lana's door.

"Hey," she said, opening the door, and flopping back onto her bed. She had been reading something. I could not see the title, but I had come to see that she was a pretty avid reader, and I decided it did not really matter what she was reading. "How was your first day?"

"Full of surprises." Lana looked at me curiously, "Anyway, I'm having something of a wardrobe malfunction, and I was wondering if I could borrow something."

Lana and I did not exactly have the same taste, but remember, I had not exactly been expecting this little trip, so I had no money, and pretty much only the clothes I had on me. Lana and her Aunt had let me use their washing machine, but there are only so many ways you can change the same outfit to make it look different. Besides, I was dining with the Kents tonight. I needed to look special.

"Sure. Closets over there, take what you like." Lana said, pointing in the direction.

"I have to say." I said, trying to make conversation, "I am surprised by your hospitality. I did kind of just show up on your doorstep and basically invite myself in."

"Sometimes you just need a home. Lord knows I know what that feels like. Nell took me in; it would not be very grateful of me if I didn't pay it forward."

"Yeah, I've been meaning to ask you about that. Why do you live with your aunt?"

Lana looked down, "My, um, parents passed away." She said quietly. Oops.

"Oh."

"So, what's the special occasion?" She said. Suddenly, she was all smiles. No wonder she was a cheerleader, she could fake pep with the best of them.

"I'm going over to the Kents for dinner." I said, trying to sound casual.

"Oh." Lana said, fairly uninterested. It was not as big a deal to her as it was for me, but she tried to _act _interested, which I guess was nice. "How do you know them?"

I considered telling her about Clark hitting me with his truck, but I decided that would be pretty bad press for the future Man of Steel. "Well, Clark goes to school with us."

Lana nodded, "Yeah, he does."

"Are you two friends?" I asked curiously. I knew they were supposed to have a thing in high school, so they probably knew each other a little.

"Not really. I mean, he seems nice, but he doesn't talk much."

I nodded and assembled a suitable outfit. Next thing, I was off.

* * *

Mr. Kent opened the door. Well, I assumed he was Mr. Kent. I recognized him from before. He smiled at me warmly.

"Hi Mr. Kent." I said politely. I had wanted to bring a pie or something, you know, to make a good impression, but I did not really have anything to work with. "I'm Chloe." I say, putting my hand out.

"It's very nice to meet you Chloe." He said, taking my hand, "Clark will be right down. You can wait in here for him, or you can wait in the loft if you'd like."

"The loft?" I asked, raising my eyebrow curiously.

He nodded, "Let me show you." He walked me out to the barn. Everyone knows Superman grew up on a farm, but you never really think about that bit when you are focusing on The Man of Steel. Mr. Kent pointed up some steps, "Clark likes to do his homework out here." I surveyed the loft. There was a couch, a desk, and a telescope. There were some books piled up on a coffee table. It seemed like as decent a place to work as any. "Martha will holler when it's time for dinner, so you kids can feel free to stay out here until then. If you need anything, feel free to come in and ask." He headed back into the house, and I settled into the couch. I looked at the books on the table. They were mostly on astrology, which I guess explained the telescope. There were also a couple sports books, and a few schoolbooks. If I did not know any better, I would think Clark Kent was just your average teenage boy. Although, I did not see any copies of _Playboy_, which made me smile.

"Hey." I heard a voice behind me say. I turned to see Clark in all his glory, all decked out in flannel plaid again.

"Hey. I see you're into astronomy." I say, pointing at the telescope. He squirms a little, "I wasn't trying to snoop, or anything, I just noticed it. It's not a bad conversation piece." I see him relax a little. He climbs up the steps and I notice him casually turn the telescope slightly. Hm. "So, what's your favorite constellation?" I ask, trying to make conversation.

He smiles awkwardly, "I like Gemini, one of the zodiac constellations."

"Why?"

"Well, it looks like these two identical people holding hands sort of, which is where the name came from. And I figure, having somebody just like you out there, a family member you can never get separated from, you'd never be lonely." He gets a sort of far off look, then clears his throat, "So, what do you want to work on?" he asks, taking his books out.

"Well, the math is giving me a bit of a headache."

"Well, you are in luck then; math and science happen to be my specialties, just don't ask me to explain poetry to you or anything."

I chuckle. We spent the next few hours basically just doing the homework thing. I mean, I want to help him find his way to journalism, but I do not want to scare him or anything.

* * *

Dinner with the Kent's was pretty amazing. They really go all out, rolls, meats, and vegetables. They all sit down together and eat and talk. They are like the picture perfect family. It is like being in a fairytale, but then I remember I kind of am.

* * *

The next day, I am totally psyched to go over to Clark's. I will make a reporter out of him, I know I will. Aside from my mission though, I will admit I am just plain excited to see him. We do not really have a lot of the same classes or the same lunch period, so I did not get to see him much during the day. I spend a little extra time at _The Torch_, and then I head to the Kent's with my backpack.

"Hello." I call as I walk inside. The door was left open. Odd considering the huge secret that this family is keeping, but they probably have their reasons.

"Mr. Kent! Mrs. Kent!"

"Chloe." I hear a greeting from behind me.

I smile as I turn around, "Hi Mr. Kent. Is Clark around?"

"He's not home yet, but you're welcome to wait."

"Really? School let out over an hour ago." I say curiously. I myself would have been there earlier if it weren't for _The Torch_.

Mr. Kent chuckles and smiles at me, "Clark runs a little late sometimes." Well, that is ironic for the fastest man alive. "Please, sit." I plop myself down on the couch and take out a book as I wait. In truth, I would be much more interested in getting to know Clark's dad, but that might be a little too obvious, not that they could ever in a million years suspect the truth about who I am or how I got here.

The phone rings, and Mr. Kent answers. "Hello." I strain to listen, but unlike Superman, I do not have super-hearing. I can, however, use my journalist skills of reading body language and facial expressions. "Yes." His eyebrows turn down, not a positive sign, "What, where?" he says, his tone slightly louder than necessary. He also said it very quickly. Concern, alarm, possibly even fear. So far, that is my analysis. "What happened?" he sounds impatient now, frustrated. Mr. Kent is silent for a long time. What I would give to know what was being said on the other end. Mr. Kent's face clenches, and then he says, "Thank you for telling me. I'll be right there."

He hangs up the phone hard and heads to the door. Then, he seems to remember I am there, and he stops. He looks at me, and I smile and shift uncomfortably, "Um, is everything okay?" I ask.

"Yeah." He says as he puts his jacket on, "Some idiot drove their car off Loeb Bridge and Clark apparently fished him out. I have to go pick him up… feel free to wait for him in the loft."

"Is there anything I can do?" I ask. My mind is wondering if this is the first small-town hero act Clark has committed, but I am trying to act as concerned as possible.

"No, thank you, just, uh …" he pauses, "Just, don't tell my wife before I get the chance to tell her."

I nod understandingly.

* * *

About an hour later, I hear the Kent truck pull up the gravel. I have been working on my homework for the past hour, so I am glad for a break. Okay, that is a lie, because while I did do some homework, I also used my laptop to try and find out if Clark has any history of saves, but apparently, this is the first one. Still, it is exciting.

"Hey." He says to me as he walks into the loft, "my dad told me you were out here."

"Yeah. I figured we could work on homework together."

"Okay." He says. He seems distant as he plops his backpack down beside him and sits on the couch.

He just sits there, turning pages for a few eternal minutes until I cannot take it anymore.

"So," I say, "I thought reading to ladies in nursing homes would be acceptable community service to get me into a good college, but I guess you just raised the bar a little, huh."

"What are you talking about?" he asks, looking at me blankly.

"Hello, Clark, you saved someone's life." I say, standing up, "That's a big deal! It was your first big heroic act!" _Okay, tone it down a little fangirl._

Clark looks at me, "I'm no hero."

My eyes get wide, "What are you talking about? Clark you saved someone's life, if that's not a hero-"

"I didn't do anything. Not really."

"You dove in after a stranger and saved them from an early watery grave. Do you know how many people would have just kept on walking?"

"Would you stop!" Clark says, his voice a little angry. He stands. For the first time since he walked in, I really look at his face. I scan his features, and get caught looking in his eyes. They look so strange, haunted almost. He is scared. Genuinely scared. He is terrified in fact. He is not just being modest; something about my words scares him. He looks so lost, so confused. He is not in any way the confident man I was expecting. I feel myself stepping back a little, but never breaking eye contact.

He sighs and looks down, "I'm going to go get us some snacks." He mumbles and then he heads down the stairs. What just happened?


	5. Chapter Four

Chapter Four

I slept a little late the next day. It was a Saturday, so it seemed fair. It was kind of cool that my first week of school had started in the middle of those weeks. The schools had been closed earlier for conferences or something. In any case, it was convenient, and now that Clark and I were becoming closer friends, I did not really feel I needed school as an excuse to see him. Okay, so, we had only been hanging out for a couple days, but every friendship has to start somewhere. I actually got in kind of late. Clark and I had worked for a while, and I was once again invited to dinner. Clark was a little distant, but everything seemed all right, except when I brought up the accident. Then he would get really weird, but I did my best to curb my curiosity after catching on to his aversion to the subject.

When I finally got up, it was around one in the afternoon. That is pretty weird for me; between coffee and natural curiosity, I tend to be a ball of energy. My mind is usually way to busy to be bothered by silly things like sleep. But it had been a really weird week, and I knew, it was only going to get weirder.

When I came downstairs, Lana was on the couch, reading something. She looked up at the sound of me approaching her, and she was looking at me kind of funny. When she realized I had caught her staring, she looked back down at her book.

"Good morning." I said, grabbing a bagel and some cream cheese. Her and Nell had been pretty generous about the food in the house. You gotta love small towns. Of course, they were probably assuming that once my dad landed in Smallville he would reimburse them for putting me up. I felt kind of guilty about that, but what choice did I have, starve. If I was stuck here much longer, I would look into getting a part-time job in town to pay them back a little.

"Morning." Lana said pleasantly.

"Did the paper come?" I asked. Neither Nell, nor Lana seemed very news-conscious, and while I mourned for my trade, I was happy not to have to fight for the paper in the morning. It is a little strange to care about the news in a fictional world, but for as long as I was here, it was real, and anyway, I would not know how to begin my morning without a paper. It is why I hate Sundays. Stupid blue laws. Nell subscribes to two papers, for god knows what reason since I have never seen her read them. She gets _The Daily Planet_ and the local Smallville paper, _The Ledger_.

"It's on the table. There was actually a really interesting story today."

I look up at her, surprised, "I didn't know you read the paper."

"Sometimes I do." Lana says with a shrug. She seems to be debating saying something to me, "So, you and Clark Kent are sort of friends now, right?" she asks.

I pick up _The Ledger_, "I guess, wh…" I start to ask, then stop. I know why she is asking. It is on the front page of _The Ledger_:

"Local Boy Saves Billionaire's Son From Watery Grave"

"Wow." I say, quickly reading over the article. The words pop out at me. "Infamous playboy and heir to LuthorCorp, Lex Luthor came incredibly close to drowning in the bottom of Elbow River. Luthor was rescued by Clark Kent, son of local farmers Jonathan and Martha."

My head is spinning, "Lex Luthor!" I do not know what else to say. Clark saved Lex Luthor! The Lex Luthor! Superman's mortal enemy Lex Luthor! A young Superman saved Superman's mortal enemy Lex Luthor from a watery grave! I can't even, I can't even… my head is spinning. So dizzy. This is insane. Something cannot be right here, can it? How is this possible?

"Are you okay?" I hear a voice say. Lana! I forgot she was there, so caught up was I in this insanity, "You look like you're going to pass out or something."

"I'm fine." I stammer. What else can I say?

"I take it you didn't know."

"Well, you know, I heard about the hero act, I just didn't know who he saved."

"It's pretty impressive. I have to say, if it had not been in the news, I don't know if I would have believed it. I mean, Clark has always seemed nice, but he is too shy to even talk to anyone. And he can barely keep up in gym class. Every time I see him, he looks like he is about to be sick. I never in a million years could have guessed that he could be brave enough to do something like this, let alone competent enough to be successful." I look at her, and suddenly she gets a guilty look on her face, "I'm sorry, that's probably not. I mean, he's your friend, and my neighbor, and our classmate. I didn't mean to sound … he's always seemed decent, I just meant-"

"It's okay." I stop her, "I get what you meant. From what you just described, I wouldn't expect something like this either." I guess he really puts on the bumbling act, even in high school.

"Maybe there's more to him than I thought."

I smile.

"Trust me, Lana, Clark Kent is one of a kind."

* * *

I decide it is time to head over to the Kents around five. Clark and I were thinking of studying tonight, and I figure five gives him enough time to enjoy the weekend before getting into weekend homework. There is a pretty cool, pretty expensive truck out in the front of the barn. Wonder what that's about.

I knock on the front door. No answer. The door is locked, which may or may not be a good thing.

"Hello!" I call, knocking a little bit harder. "Mr. Kent! Clark!"

No answer. I decide to wait, so I sit on the bench on the front porch, place my backpack down, and take out some Torch stuff I thought I might work on. About twenty minutes later, I hear a truck pulling up. It is Mr. Kent.

I stand up to greet him as he gets out of the car. He definitely looks tired, and concerned. What is going on?

"Mr. Kent. Hi, is Clark around?"

Mr. Kent flinches slightly, "Chloe, hi. Sorry, no, Clark's … out."

"Out?"

"Could you maybe come back later?"

I see Mrs. Kent getting out of the truck as well, following her husband,

"Maybe we could check the school," she says. She does not seem to have noticed me. Mr. Kent nods in my direction. "Jonathan, this s no time for-"

"Chloe, will you excuse us?" he asks, interrupting his wife. I can tell by her face that she is not too happy about that. They go off to the side, and I do my best to eavesdrop inconspicuously.

* * *

"Martha," I hear him say calmly. "I don't think it is a good idea to make a big deal about this, especially in front of other people."

"Our boy ran away Jonathan, it is a big deal. And who knows how far he can get-"

"Martha. Martha! Calm down! Yes, he can run far, but I do not think he is going to. He needs some time to cool down, to digest this news, and when he is ready, I am sure he well come home."

"But what if he doesn't." I hear her say, her voice slightly teary. Mr. Kent wraps her in his arms, and whispers something that I miss. I decide this is probably my ideal time to sneak off, but I don't really want to go home. Whatever is going on is pretty major, and Clark will need a friend. I decide to head into the barn and wait for him. In the meantime, I can work on _The Torch_.

* * *

I feel somebody shaking me awake, and I look up.

"Clark?" I ask, looking up at him.

"Hey." He whispers, "What are you doing here?"

"Waiting for you." I say, "We were going to study, remember?"

"Chloe, it's four in the morning." He says.

"What?" I say, bolting awake. He chuckles a little.

"You've been out here all night?"

"Apparently." I respond, chuckling a little myself. "So, I hear you pulled a little disappearing act."

Clark smiles awkwardly, "Yeah."

"Can I ask what happened?"

"I just … found out something about my birth parent. See, I'm adopted, and today my parents told me something that was a little … unsettling."

Three guesses as to what that is. But I feigned ignorance, simply saying, "Oh."

"Yeah." I look him over.

"Well, you seem okay now. In fact, since meeting you, I have never seen a smile so big on your face." It was true. He seemed so down on himself, what with hitting me, and then saving Lex (still trying to wrap my mind around that by the way) he has seemed so … un-Superman-like. But now, I don't know, something's changed.

His smile grows wider, "It's been an … interesting night."

"Care to share with the class."

He thinks for a minute, and then shakes his head, "Tonight was one of the best nights of my life, and if I talk about it, it might, I don't know…"

"Lose the magic?" I suggest.

Clark looks at me, surprised, "Yeah."

"Well, don't fret. I won't push for details, at least not tonight." I hop down the stairs.

"You're not going home, are you?" there is alarm in his voice.

"I was thinking about it."

"Chloe, it's four in the morning, you're tired, and it's pitch black out. I don't think you should be driving."

I smile, "Actually, I live with walking distance, I mean, it's a little far, but-"

"I still don't think it's safe." He is quiet for a minute; he seems to be thinking, "Look, why don't you stay the night. You can take my bed, and I'll take the couch downstairs."

I look up at him in surprise, "Are you sure?" He nods. ""Okay, lead the way Kent."


	6. Chapter Five

Chapter Five

When I come downstairs, the Kents offer me breakfast. And by breakfast, I do not mean a pop tart or something. There is bacon, eggs, pancakes, waffles, orange juice (fresh squeezed). Did I pick the wrong people to bunk with?

Clark comes down stairs and smiles at me awkwardly, "It's not always like this," he whispers, "But they really go all out for company." I can tell he is a little embarrassed. Who would of thought that Superman could be embarrassed by his parents just like the rest of us? I smile sympathetically and grab a waffle and some eggs.

"Clark." Mr. Kent says, and we both turn at his voice, "You're up early son."

"I, uh, got in kind of late." He says. He is squirming. Superman squirms! I know, I keep getting all weird every time he does something un-Superman-like, but come on! Who would have guessed?

Mr. Kent nods. I watch them, and they are having one of those conversation with their eyes things that people sometimes have. I can tell that the only reason Mr. Kent is not letting Clark have it is because I am there. I guess that is a good thing.

* * *

When breakfast is over, we head over to the barn.

I take out the latest issue of _The Torch_. "So," I say, trying to sound casual, "Do you want to help me with the layout?"

"Uh, the what?" he says with a laugh.

I smirk. Boy, does he need my help. Hey, it's a plus for me. I get to help shape a legend. ""The layout. It's how the paper is set up, which articles go where…" he continues to stare at me dumbly, "Here, let me show you." I open up an old copy of The Torch and scoot next to him on the couch. "See, this is the cover page." I say pointing. He leans in and listens intently, "This article, here above the fold, that is what you call a cover story. It is the most interesting article in the paper. It is the first thing a reader sees when they are deciding to buy the paper, so it has to sort of … pop out at you. So the first thing you do when deciding layout is deciding which article pops out the most, so you know what goes on the front." I place some of the articles my practically nonexistent staff typed up. There is stuff about the homecoming game and the dance, and not much more exciting. Clark looks over the articles, seriously considering each option. "I know, there's not much to pick from," I say apologetically, "I guess this town is not the most news-conscious in the world."

Clark smiles, "It's not that, people just don't want to be depressed by things. What's wrong with good news."

I shrug, "Nothing, if that really was all that was going on out there. But there is so much more. And some of it is bad, sure, but it is exiting, and mysterious, and crazy."

"I know. Geez, you sound like that kid in _Pleasantville_."

I cannot help but burst out laughing at this. He has no clue how close to the truth he is.

When I finally calm down, I say, "Well, am I in Pleasantville?"

"Meaning?"

"Does bad stuff ever happen around here? Is this really all there is to report on?"

He gets kind of mournful look on his face, "Yeah, of course. Bad stuff's happened." I wait, but he just stays silent.

"Such as …"

He sighs, "About twelve years ago, there was this huge meteor shower. It killed hundreds of people. Injured some. Not to mention what it did to the land. Of course, I was only three at the time, and my parents had just adopted me, so I didn't really know what was going on. I don't … remember much. But tons of people are still suffering from the effects of that day. You know Lana?" I nod, listening silently to his tale of woe, "Her parents were killed that day. Right in front of her. She was only three."

"Wow." I say. I do not remember this from the mythology. Doing the math, I figure that was around when Clark landed, seeing as he said he was three and his parents just brought him home. I suppose it made sense. A planet explodes; the debris has to go somewhere. And everybody who knows about Superman knows about kryptonite, his one weakness, a radioactive piece of meteorite from his home planet. But I always figured it was just a couple chucks here and there. Not enough to devastate a town. I think about Lana, everything she has said to me since I showed up on her doorstep. I think of what she said about how her aunt took her in when she was alone, about how quickly she changed the subject when I asked about her parents. I look up at Clark. "I'm sorry. I just don't know what to say to that. I … I really had no idea."

Things are quiet for a minute, and then Mrs. Kent calls to Clark.

"I've got some farm chores to do." he says.

"Well, I guess that's my cue to go, but maybe I'll see you later."

He smiles at me sadly.

* * *

When I got home, I decided to do some first-class googling. Yes, believe it or not, they have google here. I should know about this meteor shower. It is big news here. People are still talking about it. I am going to be a journalist; I should know everything about it.

After an hour, I am completely at a loss for words. Wow! That is all I can really manage. It is short, but effective. So, apparently, kryptonite does not only weaken Clark Kent, it has other dangerous which affect the average human. Well, okay, it is just a theory. It started with some strange articles in the _Smallville Ledger_ that caught my attention. Check out some of these headlines:

* * *

Area Man Gains Finger on Left Hand-Looses One on the Right

* * *

River Dredging Uncovers Bizarre Glow-in-the-Dark Geodes

* * *

So, of course, at first I thought these were just tall-tale papers, you know, the ones that print Elvis is alive and having my baby. But I also know that skepticism can be debilitating when tracking down an unbelievable yet true story. Even if it is not true, it is fascinating. Besides, I have to remember where I am. I am in a fictional world that I got to through some freaky portal, living across the street from a boy who will grow up to be the flying savior of the people. So, really, I kind of need to be open-minded.

I keep looking, and I find other papers print even freakier stuff, headlines like:

* * *

Alien Abduction of Basement Bug

* * *

Boy Carries Sister Through Wall Of Fire

* * *

And it all happened in Smallville. The deeper I dig, the more I find, bizarre, but with witnesses, and sometimes from pretty credible papers. All in Smallville, and all in the last twelve years. A lot of the events happened near forests or groves, which I figure makes sense. See, they would clean up the town, they would have to, people live there, but a forest is a little lower on the priority scale. Besides, a forest is already full of rocks and green things, so finding green rocks in it would be no easy feet, and with all the recovery going on in town, they really would not have time for it.

Then, I hit the jackpot. There is this guy, Dr. Steven Hamilton, a mineralogist who was recruited by NASA to study the Apollo moon rocks. After a few more years working with the government, Hamilton moved to Metropolis and served as a research professor at Metropolis University for eight years. He got quite a few awards for his research on different kinds of meteorites, and for a while, he was well respected in his community. However, do to an inappropriate affair with a student, which the university and the press saw fit to keep quiet, he was fired, and lost pretty much all his credibility.

He came across kryptonite somehow, and became fascinated with it. He moved to Smallville and started researching, using money he made selling kryptonite to tourists to fund his research and support himself. He obviously wants to regain his credibility, but he lost it because of a moral controversy, not because there was anything wrong with his work. Hamilton seems to believe kryptonite has special properties that could explain all of the strange things that happen in Smallville, which people choose to ignore. He does not have any real proof right now, but with his limited funding, that is understandable. Still, given what I know about this unique rock, the theory is not all that far fetched.

I printed out my research, and was going over it when my cell phone rang. Yes, I have a cell phone here. I had my phone in my pocket when I went through the refrigerator, so I just had to get the number to work, which just took some more hacking work.

"Hello?"

"Hey. Chloe? It's Clark."

I smile, "Hey. What's up?"

"Well, you know how you wanted a more interesting story for The Torch. I think you are going to want to see this. Can you get down to Frank's Auto Shop?"

"Yeah, just give me a sec."

"Okay. I'll see you soon."

"See you soon." I close my cell.

I needed a ride. "Mrs. Potter?" I said, tracking down Lana's aunt.

"Yes?"

"I was just wondering if you were going into town." I said, trying to sound casual.

"Why, do you need a lift somewhere?" Okay, so subtlety is not exactly my strong suit.

"Kind of." I said awkwardly.

"I'll grab my keys." These are pretty nice people, which does not make me feel to good every time I ask them for a favor, but what can you do

* * *

When I get to the auto shop, there is police tape around it, and a guy being pulled out on a stretcher.

"Excuse me, what happened here?" I ask one of the paramedics.

"Don't worry mam, we have it all under control."

"That's great, but not what I asked."

He looks at me, "Who are you?"

"I'm on the school paper." I say. I considered lying and saying I worked at _The Ledger_, but authority figures are more likely to bend the rules for a kid who they figure doesn't know any better than deal with any sort of large scale media.

"Look, kid," he says, looking at me in that annoying, condescending way adults do, "I can't really answer any questions at this time, besides, if you didn't notice, I'm kind of busy."

He starts to walk off, "I just want to know how the place got so flooded?" I say.

He looks at me like I'm crazy, "Flood, what, this guy was electrocuted."" Jackpot. "He's basically comatose. That can't happen from a flood."

"Thank you." I say. He stands there, dumbstruck as I go off to find Clark. I notice this guy, standing there, staring at the whole thing with this sort of creepy, proud look on his face. That definitely needs to be checked into. I snap a picture of him with my cell.

"Glad I called?" I here a voice behind me say.

I turn around, glowing the way I do when I can smell a really good story.

"Are you kidding? Thank you." He smiles and shrugs the way guys do when they want to pretend something is no big deal. It's that whole humble thing he's got going; it's kind of cute.

* * *

We headed to Clark's place, and I made pretty liberal use of the computer. First, I researched the guy who was killed. His name was Frank, obviously. He was a jock in high school, popular, top of the world. Then he graduated and his 0.2 IQ level caught up with him. Since he had no other options, he took over his dad, Frank Senior's auto shop. I did some digging and discovered that two other guys had also suffered electrocution-induced comas in the past week, and both of had graduated Smallville high the same year as Frank. They had both been on the team. In fact, they were the three star players. One of them had actually done pretty well for himself, he had a wife, three kids, a dog, and a pretty high profile business position in Metropolis. The other guy had apparently lost his mind after high school. He had started telling people that this woman he had a thing for was the messiah, and had threatened a man at gunpoint who had refused to bow down. The woman had gotten a restraining order, and the guy had been committed. A couple years ago, he was released, supposedly rehabilitated, but once you have that crazy stamp on your head, it is hard to get a job, so he lived with his mother and did his best to search for work. I guess we will never know what would have happened with that now.

I started looking into the graduating class and found a picture of the guy I saw at the auto shop. You know, the creepy one. His name was Jeremy Creek, and get this, he did not look a day older than the day that picture was taken. I looked into Jeremy, and found that he had been found in a field on the day of the meteor shower. He has been comatose for the past twelve years. Apparently, he suffered from massive electrolyte imbalance. Anyway, a day before the first guy got electrocuted, there was this huge electrical storm. The hospital's generator went down, and when it came back on, Jeremy was gone.

Clark looked at me, trying to sink in everything we had found, but I was not in pause mode.

"What do you suppose he was doing out there in that field, anyway? Why wasn't he at home or, I don't know, at the homecoming dance or something?"

When I said homecoming dance, Clark's head shot up, "The homecoming dance was that night?"

"Yeah." I said with a shrug.

"And you say all the victims were jocks?" I nod. "What was the name of the field they found him in?"

"Reilly, why?"

Clark sighed, "It's a homecoming tradition. Every year, before getting to the field for the big game, some guys from the football team pick one _lucky _freshman as that years scarecrow."

"Scarecrow? Like in _The Wizard of Oz_?"

"Chloe, these guys take a poor kid, strip him down to his boxers, paint an S on his chest and string him up like a scarecrow."

"Jeez, sounds like years of therapy waiting to happen." Clark nods, "Although, the whole S on the chest thing would be kind of sexy."

"Why?"

I freeze, "Anyway, so, we have motive, we have means-"

"Means? Chloe, the guy was caught in an electrical storm and he escaped. That doesn't mean he knows how to fry three guys and leave no evidence."

"Clark, don't you get it. He was caught in the meteor shower. His body has been affected with a unique substance which has altered his molecular structure, and now with the electrical storm, he could be like a lightning rod who doesn't need lightning." He just keeps looking at me like I'm crazy, "Look, I've been doing some research since you told me about that meteor shower earlier. I think the meteors can do things to people, make things happen, weird things, incredible, unbelievable things." I take out the folder with all the stuff I printed and let him leaf through it. His face drops. He looks scared.

"It's all my fault." I hear him mutter. Oh god, I am such an idiot. He arrived in the meteor shower. Of course, he would feel responsible.

"Clark." I reach out to comfort him, but he backs away and rushes out the door.

* * *

I consider going after him, but if he really wanted to, he could just disappear. I hang out for a minute, and decide I should probably head back. Looking out the window, I spot Lana's boyfriends truck. I squint, and I see they have a kid tied up in the back. Lana's boyfriend is on the football team. The homecoming game is tonight.

"The Scarecrow." Where do they hang a kid up again, Reilly field? Lana's getting ready for the dance, and cannot drive. Nell's at work. Guess I'm walking. I grab a tool from the loft, hoping it will be enough to help the poor freshman down.

* * *

By the time I get there, the sun has already started to set. The kid has probably been up there for twenty or thirty minutes now. Poor thing. I walk around looking for the kid when I hear it.

"Help me." it is quiet, but I would know that voice anywhere.

"Clark!" I scream, running to him.

"Chloe," he asks weekly, "What are you doing here? Why aren't you at the dance?" he is not acting here. He is coughing out words.

"Well, nobody asked me to the dance, besides, a little birdie told me about this cool prank that happens here annually and I figured it was time somebody put a stop to it … but I never in a million years thought you would be the victim."

"Mind helping me out anyway?" he says, attempting humor even though he looks like he might pass out. I realize I froze up when I saw it was him and start to move, "Of course, sorry." I say, approaching him. God, how is this possible. But then, I see it, a little sparkly green something hanging from his neck. How do I get it off inconspicuously?

I head around behind him and loosen the ropes with the tool I brought. While I'm back there, I unclasp the necklace, trying not to be too obvious about it.

He collapses, and the necklace falls off. He stands, seemingly regaining his strength, and heads off, probably to deal with whoever knew about the kryptonite. I pick up the necklace and place it in my pocket. Yes, I know I should get rid of it, but the last thing I want is for somebody else to find it and use it. Besides, I am kind of curious how it ended up around Clark's neck. I doubt someone on the football team wears jewelry. But, then again, you never know.

* * *

I track down a lead box to keep it in and place it in my backpack so I can drop it off at home, as far away from Clark as possible. Lana is still at the dance, obviously, so after I dump the bag, I head over to the loft and wait for Clark.

"Hey," he says when he gets back.

"Hey, you okay?"

"Yeah, you know, dumb prank." I smile, "listen, about Jeremy, um, I heard he lost his powers, got amnesia or something. He doesn't remember anything, so I doubt he'll be a threat anymore." So, that's where he was.

"Where'd you hear that?"

"I heard a whisper."

"Not revealing your sources. Good rule for journalists." I say with a smirk.

"Hey, I told you I'm not interested in that."

"You have to admit, the research you did today with me, pretty impressive."

"You hacked all the databases."

"You found the scarecrow connection."

"You would have too, if you'd known about it."

"Probably. But still, I think you have potential."

"No."

"Whatever you say." I say, smirking at him.

"I guess everybody's still at the dance."

"Yeah, why didn't you go?"

Clark shrugged, "Same reason as you I guess. Couldn't get a date."

"Oh, come on, I can't believe that."

"Yeah right."

"Seriously, I'm new, nobody knows me, but people know you here, and I'm sure they like you. They'd be idiots not to."

"Thanks Chloe."

"Hey, since we both missed out, why don't we make up for it?"

"What do you mean?"

"One dance."

"What. Chloe, we're in a loft."

"You've got a radio, don't you? Come on, one dance to make up for tonight."

He smiles, "Okay." He walks over to his radio and turns it on._ Everything_, by Lifehouse. As good a song as any.

I walk up to him, "May I have this dance." He asks, reaching for my hand.

I smile, "Of course you may." I put my hands on his shoulders and he snakes his arms around my waist. It tingles a little. I take a deep breath and smell his cologne. It's nice. I feel a little woozy. We sway together for a while, just like that, and for a second, I forget that I am dancing with Superman. I am not dancing with the future Man of Steel. I am dancing with my friend.


	7. Chapter Six

Author's Note: I apologize if any of the days seem off, but they never really specify whether or not it is a weekend, though they do tend to spend three or four days in a row out of the classroom. Anyway, I have been improvising. I hope that's okay. So far, things are following Smallville pretty accurately, but the more Chloe does, the more things she will change until some pretty big events get altered. That is the plan anyway. I also apologize for taking so long to update. Things have been a little crazy for me, and on the rare occasions that I actually had time to write, I had writers block. I think I am clear now though. Enjoy Chapter Six.

Chapter Six

When I woke up on Monday, I was a little surprised to find Lana still asleep. Normally, on a school day, she would be up and ready to go by now. At least, that's how it's been since I got here.

"Lana," I said, gently shaking her.

She stretched out a little and yawned. Her hair was splayed out on her pillow, but even with bed head, she was strikingly beautiful. Sometimes I hate girls like that.

"What?" she said through her yawn.

"We're going to be late for school."

Lana turned over and checked her alarm clock, "School doesn't start for three hours." She said, and then turned back over.

"What?" I asked, surprised.

"Sorry. I keep forgetting you're new. See, in Smallville, during harvest season, the school opens late on Monday because so many of the students come from farms and they need to help their parents out at the farmers market."

Backwards hick-town. Oh well, no school. And Clark came from a farming family, so if I went to the farmers market, I could probably run into him.

"Well, are we going to the farmers market?" I asked eagerly.

Lana nodded, "but not this early. I'm not a farm girl. Nell does like to pick up some produce, but buyers do not have to go in as early. Don't get me wrong, the farmers market can be fun, but I like to take advantage and sleep a little later on farmers market Mondays. I'll get up soon, get dressed, grab some cereal, and then we'll go."

I nodded understandingly. Okay, so I had some time to kill. It occurred to me that I could go on ahead, but seeing as this was my first farmers market, I might be safer tagging along with Lana.

* * *

When we left, it was not with Nell. It turned out Lana wanted to catch a ride with her boyfriend, Whitney. I sat in the back, brooding, and shooting daggers at Whitney. By now, Lana knew how talkative I could be, so she was a little thrown by my sullen sulking.

"Is everything okay?" she asked, turning to me.

I shrugged bitterly.

Lana nudged Whitney, implying she wanted him to attempt to make conversation with me. Maybe she was worried I was feeling like a third wheel. Nope. I just really hated the second wheel.

"So," Whitney tried, clearing his throat, "You're new right?" Real clever this guy. I remained silent, "Made any good friends, I mean, other than Lana?" he asked, trying again

"Actually, yes." I responded, venom in my voice, "Clark Kent is my friend."

Whitney shifted a little uncomfortably, "Really. He's that freshman, right?" Jerk. Pretending he did not know who Clark was.

"Clark's a sweet guy." Lana said.

Whitney nodded, "He seems nice."

That's when I snapped, "Really, because when I think somebody _seems nice_, I rarely strip them down to their boxers and hang them up in a field with an S painted on their chest!" I huffed. I heard Lana gasp slightly. I admit, my anger got the better of me. I was trying to keep quiet about it; it was a bit humiliating for Clark and he probably did not want it made public knowledge, but Whitney just made me so mad. Besides, Lana could keep it to herself. I think she would if I asked her to. And she should know what her oh-so-sweet boyfriend was capable of.

"Whitney, stop the car." she said.

"Lana-" Whitney started, but she cut him off.

"Pull over now!"

Whitney did as he was told, pulling over at the side of the road. Once we had pulled over, Lana got out of the car, slamming the door behind her. Whitney got out, and I watched them argue for twenty minutes. I could not hear them, and I cannot read lips, but there were a lot of exaggerated hand gestures so I am guessing it was serious. When Lana got back to the car, Whitney was running after her.

She opened my door and said, "I'm walking the rest of the way; do you want to come?"

There was a little irritation in her voice, but I knew it was not directed at me. As much as I preferred the comfort of a car to hoofing it, riding with Whitney had been bad enough _with_ Lana there.

I quickly hopped out and joined Lana on the road. Whitney chased after her a little, but finally gave up and returned to his car.

* * *

Walking was a lot more painful than I would have thought. Sure, it was a small-town, but there was a reason we had been driving. It was a far way to walk, and I was not exactly what you would call athletically inclined. My feet were killing me. I decided to try and distract myself.

"Are you okay?" I asked Lana. She shook her head. "Look, I'm sorry you had to find out like that, I just got so mad, and-"

"Chloe, you have nothing to apologize for, believe me. Whitney's the one who … I mean, I have been with for almost a year. I thought I knew what type of person he was. I never would of thought he could do something so, so-"

"Juvenile, cruel," I offered, "malicious, immature, brutal, vicious, vile, inhuman, sadistic, depraved-"

"I get it." Lana said, stopping me, "I just… you know what his excuse was."

"'It was just a prank, lighten up.'" I said, in my best dumb jock voice. Lana laughed a little at my impression but her fury quickly returned to her face.

"Aside from that." the exasperation was clear in her voice, "He said that he saw Clark and I talking alone and he got jealous."

"So his natural response was a brutal and humiliating attack." I replied sarcastically.

Lana laughed bitterly, "Not only does he not trust me, but instead of talking to _me_ about it, he takes out his completely unfounded jealousy on Clark in the worst way possible. He had absolutely no right to do that. Clark did nothing wrong. He's a sweet guy."

Something registered in my mind, "When did you talk to him?" I asked.

"What?" Lana asked, confused.

"You said he saw you guys talking at got jealous. When did you guys talk?"

"A few nights ago. He was upset about something, I think he ran off, and I ran into him. You know, it was the craziest thing." Her face started to soften at the memory, "I'm trying to comfort him, because he is so upset that he's run off, and somehow my parents come up in the conversation, and suddenly, he's comforting me, whatever was bothering him totally forgot." She seemed far away. Maybe she had forgotten I was there, "It was like the second he noticed I was upset, whatever was bothering him didn't even matter. How many people will just forget their problems to comfort someone else? And it was something big too, I could tell. He was really upset. But somehow, after he saw I was upset, it just didn't matter to him anymore. He just tried to make me smile again. He was so sweet." Lana shook her head, stepping out of her memory, "He did not deserve what Whitney did to him."

I was a little stunned. For a millisecond, I almost felt bad for Whitney. Almost. What he had done was wrong, and I still officially hated him, but he had been right about one thing. He definitely had a reason to be jealous. Lana might not see it yet, might not want to see it, but she was falling for him. I suppose I should not have been surprised. They were supposed to be high school sweethearts, after all.

"And you know what else?" Lana said, her fury back in full force, "I gave him my favorite necklace before the homecoming game, for luck. And he lost it. He knows what it means to me. I never take that necklace off. And he lost it. And he was not even going to tell me. He was just hoping I wouldn't notice until he was able to track it down."

Necklace! The necklace around Clark's neck! Lana had a kryptonite necklace! How was that possible?

"What does it look like?" I asked, "Maybe I've seen it."

Lana sighed, "It's a green stone on a chain."

"Well, that doesn't sound like anything unusual. Maybe you could get another one, go back to the same supplier?" I ventured, hoping to find out where she got it.

Lana shook her head, "No, it's one of a kind."

"Tons of people say things are one of a kind to get you to pay more. Where'd you get it from?"

"It was …specially made for me." Lana ventured slowly. I looked at her quizzically. She sighed, "I was hoping, since you are new and everything, maybe one person in Smallville wouldn't know my tragic tale, but, well, my aunt had it made from, um…" she paused. I could tell this was hard for her. Then, suddenly, I figured it out, and everything fell into place. Clark had told me that her parents had died in the meteor shower, so a big block of kryptonite had killed her parents. The necklace was made just for her, as a memento, to make her feel close to them. It was made from a piece of the kryptonite that killed them. That was how she got it. There was no evil plot, nobody out to get Clark, nobody knowing his secret. It had all been a coincidence. I sighed a little.

"It's okay." I said, putting my arm on her shoulder, "It's okay."

* * *

We kept going for a while, and I felt lucky to be with Lana, because otherwise, I would be terribly lost. I had not told Lana that I knew about her family. The anonymity seemed important to her, and she deserved it. I had not told her that I had the necklace either. I could not give it back. Intentional or not, her wearing that necklace could hurt Clark. I remembered what she had said about Clark last week, _"Every time I see him, he looks like he is about to be sick."_ I had assumed that was just part of his act, so people would assume he was a weakling, but that had not been it at all. Being near Lana had made him physically ill, but now, her necklace was gone. Clark would be safe. I felt proud, protecting him, but my pride was soon replaced by pain as my sneaker caught on a rock and I fell forward.

I caught myself on my hands.

"Are you okay?" Lana asked, rushing to help me up.

"I think so." I said, but as she helped me stand, I found myself collapsing again. I looked down, and saw that the rock I had tripped on was in a cluster of rocks, all of which were sharp. I had twisted my ankle and my leg had a deep gash going down it, with gobs of blood pouring out. I winced. "Or, maybe not so much."


	8. Author's Note

Author's Note:

Hello.

So, I know it has been a really long time since I have updated, and I apologize for that.

I have a lot of stories going right now, and it can be hard to keep track sometimes, plus sometimes there is writers block, and also life, which unfortunately gets in the way of fan fictions which we all know are more important.

I wanted to assure all of you that while it has been a while, and I do not know how soon I will be updating, I am NOT, I repeat NOT, dropping this story.

I hate when people drop stories, and when I made my account I promised myself I would never drop one.

For the record, I actually have been working on this one a little, but sometimes chapters take longer to write than you might think.

So, yes, it may be a while, depending on other factors, but I promise you, unless I unexpectedly die, this story and all of the others will be finished. Maybe not today, or this week, or even this month, but they will be. I understand if you don't want to wait around, because it might be a while, but I promise, I will finish these stories. I just wanted to make that clear, and apologize for how long it is taking.

Have a good day.

Sincerely,

~RedTailedHawkens


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